Lost(renewed)
by Darkfairy102
Summary: Thousands of years have passed since the last Dark Lord was resurrected. The castle has, once again, begun to give off a malicious aura. Lorena, the newest Belmont, is convinced that her mother is still alive somewhere and gets a tip from someone that that somewhere is the dark lord's castle, but is she truly ready to face the new foe dwelling within? Please R&R.
1. Going Home

Chapter 1: Going Home

I stood outside of my house, waiting for my dad to come home so that we could start painting it. He had this crazy idea of letting someone rent it over the summer while we were away. Where were we going? Romania, the country of my birth. The country where I made my first real friends: Elinor Carmitru and Raemundo Artenie.

The country where my mother disappeared off the face of the earth.

My dad planned to paint the house a pastel yellow, and only one store in a one hundred mile radius sold the tasteless color. When he told me about this particular shade, I told him, in the most sarcastic tone I could muster, "Wow, dad, that's a great idea. Why don't we put up a white, picket fence while we're at it?"

He took me seriously.

We spent the whole of the day previous putting up and painting the fences a blinding white. Me grumbling and complaining about it the entire time. Of course, I did it to where he couldn't hear me, because I didn't want to hurt his feelings. He seemed so happy to be doing something like this. Who was I to ruin his fun?

So there I stood, listening to the sounds of birds chattering to one another and the sound of a cricket that decided to stay up and chirp a little longer. The cricket's chirp was high-pitched and euphonious like a violin in a string quartet. Only, it was solo. Slowly, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, feeling my stomach push outward with the motion.

For too many moments than I could count, I stood there and let the rest of my senses take over. The smell of freshly-dewed grass tickled my nose. Wind tugged at the loose strands of my hair and, as I blew my hair away from my head, I could taste the air.

"Lorena, could you come help me with the paint, please?"

My eyelids swept from my eyes, and I could see the world again. "Yeah, Dad," I said, walking to the stairs. I hopped off of the stoop and ran over to him. He was tossing silver cans out of his car that looked kind of like paint cans. I couldn't be sure, though. When I saw how many cans he'd bought, I had to resist slamming my palm into my face.

"Do you have enough paint cans there, Dad?" I asked.

"Well, the entire house could use a fresh coat if we want to attract people to rent it before we leave. Most people won't buy a house that looks unkempt or decrepit," he explained with a laugh. It sounded kind of like a cheese-grater against sandpaper, but I refrained from covering my ears. "Besides, brightly-colored houses attract more people. It makes the house seem nicer."

"Okay," I said with a roll of my eyes. "Just hand me a brush so we can get started."

For most of the day, we worked on the outside of the house and the garage. Dad bought a can of white paint and used it for the garage, thank god. At least one part of the outside would look normal. Once we finished with painting the outside, we moved on to the inside.

Our red walls in the living-room were replaced with sky-blue and the chocolate-brown of the dining-room with lavender. He left our kitchen the same because it was a color that matched the rest of the house. As soon as that was done, I moved on to the garden. With care, I weeded my flowers and gave plant food to the ones that were looking a bit down.

"All right," Dad said, several hours later, as we settled onto the porch for a drink of water. "We shouldn't have to do too much work tomorrow. I think we finished most of it today. However-" he took a drink "-you need to start packing your things."

"Where in Romania will we be staying?" I asked, taking a swig of water from my glass.

"The same place where your mother grew up," he said. "In the same house, actually."

"What part?"

"Transylvania."

A shiver shook me. Even though I grew up there, the place still gave me the creeps. Especially that huge castle that always seemed to have storm clouds surrounding it. My dad told me it was abandoned, but something about it just felt wrong to me.

Nothing dead could make a person feel the amount of sickening gloom that place gave me. Like a leech, it sucked the warmth from my skin whenever I went anywhere near it. No amount of convincing from neither Elinor nor Raemundo would get me into that scary-seeming place.

"Why there? Can't we just stay in a hotel or something?" I asked, trying my best not to sound whiney.

"What's wrong with it? Don't your friends live around there?" He sounded so shocked. I couldn't really blame him. To him, my fear was completely irrational. "Besides, do you not remember what date next Monday is?"

My eyes dropped to my neck. The locket rested there, just like any other day. The trinket was a constant reminder to me that she was out there somewhere. But where? Where could she have gone? Did she run away or did something terrible happen to her?

"It's been ten years, Lorena. Don't you think she would like some new roses on her gra-"

"She's not dead. She just disappeared," I grumbled.

I heard my father sigh and the creak of the porch as he stood up. Heard the door behind me open and my father's footsteps pad into the house. The sound stopped as I was certain he paused in the doorway. "You need to let her go, Lorena. She's not coming back."

I didn't say anything, just waited for the door to close. Another tired sigh, then it clicked shut. Clasping it between my fingers, I pried open the silver, heart-shaped locket my mother had given me just before she vanished.

In it was a picture of her holding me as a baby. Next to her was Dad in a suit that looked much more regal than he ever wore. Both of them were smiling. The baby was reaching for her mother's hair which was identical to mine. Same dark-brown, the only difference being the bouncing curls trailing down her shoulders.

I slowly closed it as I felt my hands begin to tremble. It was downright painful to remember how normal things were before she left and how happy Dad was. We both tried to forget about her most of the time because it hurt too much for us to remember how things used to be.

I took my hand and wiped the tear that was beginning to form in my eye. _Get it together, Lorina. She wouldn't want to see you cry, _I chided myself. No other thought crossed my mind as I stood up and walked to the door behind me. As I emerged into the air-conditioned house, I noticed my dad on the couch, his mouth open in what I assumed to be a silent snore.

So I tiptoed up the stairs to my room and took my suitcase out of the closet. I took everything out of my drawers and stuffed them into the bag: my research for a summer project, toiletries, a small journal to log whatever adventures I had, and summer clothes. Threw a pillow in there just in case.

As soon as I finished packing the suitcase, I pulled my purse out from under a pile of clothes that I swore to myself I would do when I got back. I checked the contents of it: a pad of paper, my cellphone, a couple of books, and a small bag of pens. You never knew when you would need to jot something down.

I sat down on my bed and fell back onto the blanket. Putting my arms under my head, I stared up at the ceiling. The glow-in-the-dark stars from when I first got to America still speckled the wide expanse of dark blue. When I was younger, I was obsessed with the stars. I knew every kind of constellations, their names, and the position of each. Still had a poster telling me the names and showing the shapes on my wall.

It reminded me of the times I spent with Elinor. We used to camp out in the wilderness and count them. We'd take turns using my telescope. Used to play games like hide-and-seek. She always came up with the best hiding places too. One time, she was hidden so well that I couldn't find her until the morning after. When I did find her, she was in a log by the creek.

A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth as I thought of how great it would be to see my best friends again. _I wonder if they even remember me_. I thought. _Or if they've changed any. I can't wait to see them. _However, I hoped Rae and Elinor had gotten that stupid idea of visiting that castle out of their heads. There was no way I was ever going to that place. Ever. With a capital E, V, E, and R.

Suppressing the chill traveling, like a gathering of tiny, icy spiders, down my back, I scooted over to my pillow and tucked myself under the blanket. Pressing my head to the pillow, I shut my eyes. Not being a very light sleeper, I ended up falling asleep almost immediately.

_A forest surrounded me, burning as brightly as the sun in the sky. In the center of the inferno was a dark, doorway-shaped path that seemed to extend for leagues. Not thinking of any other options, I ran forward into the blinding darkness. I could hear someone screaming nearby. Actually, multiple people. Too many different screams._

_Something compelled me to save them, even though I didn't know who they were. Some unknown force grabbed me by the hand and pulled me in a zigzagging line. I struggled, but it wouldn't let me free. "Someone help me," I shouted, still squirming. The other shrieks continued, but no one responded to my call. _

_The invisible hand brought me to a stop in front of a village that was surrounded by monsters of all sizes. A huge skeleton grabbed people from the ground and threw them in a bunch of random directions. An armored suit threw axes at the few civilians not being terrorized by the giant. People were getting slaughtered in more gruesome ways than I ever could have imagined possible. Blood spattered the streets, painting it with the pain of the poor villagers._

_For twisted reasons unfathomable to me, I couldn't bring myself to look away from it. The carnage in front of me was transfixing, even though I was horrified by the spectacle. Horrified by the bodies littering the ground. Horrified by how like the people in my town they looked. _

_In the center of all this chaos stood a man who looked like he belonged in a medieval roleplaying game. Like the ones some of my friends at school played. He was dressed in a black cloak with gold trim, a white shirt that looked kind of like a blouse, dress pants, and brown boots. He made strange gestures at the creatures surrounding him and shouted at them in a language that sounded like the Romanian my mother tried teaching me when I was younger._

_Silver shined where his head was, and I realized that it was his hair. It was as long as my mom's, strangely. I'd never seen a man with hair that long, only in my textbooks. Yet, he looked as if he was my dad's age. Something was off about the man in the middle of this. _

_His eyes fell upon me, and the feeling I got whenever I went near that castle began to bear down on me, smothering. It was making it hard for me to breathe. Even worse was the fact that I was suddenly frozen in place. A sinister grin on his face, he began to walk towards me. I felt my eyes widen to a size that should not have been possible for a human being._

_Without saying a word, he grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and lifted me into the air. I squeezed my eyes shut, praying that he would spare me by some miracle…_

My eyes shot open as I felt my heart pound in my chest. The organ was beating so fast that it hurt to breathe. "A dream, Lorena," I told myself. "It was a dream. There's no way something like that will happen."

Looking out the window, I noticed that it was still dark out. The moon was at eye-level with me. Just a normal moon the color of sugar due to the sun shining through it. I allowed myself a small smile, then remembered I forget to take off the locket. I touched it and felt a small crack, no bigger than a mark from a nail, running down the center. Just like in the nightmare, my eyes became larger than a pizza.

I jumped from the bed and ran to the bathroom. I flicked the light switch and stood in front of the mirror above the sink.

With trembling fingers, I fumbled with the clasp. It was stubborn and every time I got it unhooked, it would close again. Finally, after twenty minutes of scrabbling to unclasp it, I undid the one thing holding the locket together and got a good look at the silver heart.

It looked like a knife had sliced down the middle of it. I could see a little bit of my mom's picture showing through. The picture itself was unscathed, but it still mystified me. What could have caused such a clean cut? It wasn't jagged at all, in fact.

Before I could ponder on it more, I heard the sound of a door opening and closing. I slowly padded to where the sound came from and saw a shadowy figure that looked like a person. My irrational mind took over, and I ran over and kicked the figure in their leg.

The strange being cried out and fell to the ground. "Lorena, it's me!" I heard a voice that sounded like dad say.

"Oops," I said, sticking out my hand to help my father up. A moment later, I felt a weight pulling on my hand and tugged back with just as much force. "Sorry, Dad."

Once he was on his feet, I let go. "Was it a nightmare?" he asked.

"Yeah, but something happened to my locket, too." I gestured for him to come into the restroom. I showed him the locket.

He tisked. "That won't be very easy to fix. How did it happen?" His eyebrow was raised as he stared at my silvery memento.

"I… don't know. I just woke up, and it was like that. But what's strange is that Mom's picture is fine," I said.

"We'll have to take care of it in the morning before people start coming in asking to rent," he said. His expression turned firm. "But you, young lady, need to go back to bed. It's one in the morning." He walked away before I could say anything more.

"Okay. Night," I said to the space of air where he stood originally. The door slamming closed was the only response I received. With quiet steps, I trotted down the stairs and checked to see if all of the windows and doors were locked. As I figured, they were.

I went back up the stairs to my bedroom and turned on the light. I inspected my room for any traces of a weapon lying around. After searching for a couple of minutes, I felt silly and crawled under the covers once more. As I settled back into my sleeping position, I heard a strange creaking noise coming from beside me. I turned to where my window was and saw it parted slightly. Swiftly, I slammed it shut and latched it.

I cocooned myself in my blanket, trying to stop shaking. What was going on that night? First that strange dream, then my locket broke, and now the window being open even though I was almost positive I locked it. Something was up.

Even with these unsettling thoughts, I was able to fall asleep. Hopefully, I would stay asleep until morning that time.

Turns out I was even more tired than I thought because I did sleep the rest of the morning – and the afternoon. By the time I got up, it was three in the afternoon. "Oh man. Dad's gonna murder me," I said to myself as I jolted out of bed. Scrounging for something to put on, I grabbed my slippers. I ran down the stairs and into the living room where I figured my dad would be. He was sitting on the couch with a couple and their five-year-old child.

The couple looked so cheerful, their smiles a contagion that would not take effect on me. Probably not my dad either. The woman had shiny, blond hair that cascaded down her shoulders in ever-rolling waves. Her smile was as white as snow in late November and just as sparkly.

The man wore a Hawaiian shirt and a pair of shorts that screamed "I'm on summer vacation." His hair was almost as dark as the sunglasses hanging from the collar of his shirt. His face was adorned by a smile that was similar to his wife's. The child in the middle of them just looked bored out of his mind.

My dad, suddenly realizing I was in the room, turned to me. "Mrs. And Mr. Peterson, this is my daughter Lorena," he said to the couple.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lorena," Mrs. Peterson said, surveying my disheveled appearance. She was probably repulsed by my now-wrinkled outfit from the day before, my hair that probably looked like a rat's nest and my torn-to-pieces bunny slippers. Thankfully, she didn't say anything about them. Instead, she turned back to my father. "Are you two the only people living here?"

"Yup. Just two of us here," he responded, plastering on a smile. "It can get lonely, but we keep each other company, and sometimes we have visitors besides the neighborhood strays." He laughed, and I had to refrain from covering my ears, again.

The couple laughed nervously. "The house seems nice enough. How long will you be gone?" the man asked in a British accent.

"We should be gone until early August. If you'll hand me your number, I will get in touch with you when we're on our way home."

The woman scribbled digits on a piece of paper and handed it to my father. Dad then went on to explain the stipulations for renting: leave the drawers closed, don't go through the jewelry box on the nightstand, tend to the garden daily and keep the house as clean as you possibly can. The man took down all of these instructions on a pad of paper he'd brought with him for some reason I couldn't fathom.

"Thank you for allowing us to stay in your home while you're away," the woman said, still smiling (Did she ever stop?) "We just need to pack our things, then we can move in as soon as possible." She, the man, and the child stood up and left without speaking again.

As soon as they were gone, my father turned to me. "Were you planning to sleep all day?" he teased. "You were asleep for more than twelve hours. In fact, you broke your sleeping record."

"Sorry, Dad. I don't know why I slept that long. I really didn't mean to," I said. I really hadn't, though a small part of me thought that sleeping the rest of the day would get me out of going to that dreaded country. Sadly, the deal was made, and our plane was set to fly in about three hours. Plenty of time for me to prepare for departure. Finish preparing anyway.

"Well, go finish getting ready. We need to leave at a quarter to four, if we want to get a good spot on the plane," he said as he started up the stairs to grab his own luggage.

"Dad, I really don't think this-" a crash from upstairs cut me off. I rushed up the steps to my dad's bedroom and threw open the door. What I saw made me smack my palm to my forehead. My dad had five suitcases on top of him, his hand the only thing visible through the catastrophe.

"Lorena, is that you? Can you help me up please?" he asked, his voice muffled.

With a heavy sigh, I walked over and pulled him out of the tangled mess of bags. "Do you want me to carry some of them?" I asked.

"That would be much appreciated," he said, picking up a couple of them.

He handed them to me, and I had to keep from falling over. "God, Dad, what did you put in this thing?" I asked, accidentally dropping the other bag.

"It contains what we'll need for the house," he said. "Plus a tent, an air mattress, a first-aid kit, and books with commonly-used Romanian sayings."

I considered these unnecessary, but I didn't want to upset him so I just said, "All right. I'll help you carry them downstairs and to the car."

It took us three trips (four, if you count the one for my bag), but we finished everything without many issues. The trunk was filled to the brim with his suitcases and my large suitcase. At first the door to the trunk wouldn't budge, but I slammed it, slammed it so hard that my teeth chattered from the force, and it closed. Soon we were on the road to the airport that held the plane that would lead us to our home away from our new home.

I looked up at the sky: it betrayed me with its cotton-candy clouds of white and light-blue shading. This zealous atmosphere would not help with convincing my dad to abandon this idea of going back to that place. Maybe I should have just given up on convincing him. Maybe I was just being irrational because of that weird nightmare. Maybe I would actually have a great time.

I got into the passenger seat and strapped myself in. Closing the door, I propped my arm on the windowsill and expelled a tired sigh. Laying my head on the palm of my hand, I gazed out of the glass and up at the drifting, white puffs. They were slow but graceful, like dancers doing pirouettes across the sky.

After a few minutes, my dad spoke. "You never know, Lorena. It could be fun. Don't you remember what a great time you, Rae, and Elinor used to have?" he asked as I heard the rumble of the engine starting.

"Dad, that was ten years ago. Besides, they probably won't even recognize me. I look nothing like I did back then," I said. The last one was a lie; I had one of those faces that stayed, for the most part, the same no matter how much time passed. My hair was longer, but it still had that same dark color that Elinor used to be so fond of.

Neither of us said another word the entire car ride. He just continued driving, and I used the time to mope about the disaster waiting to happen. My mind wandered back to the man controlling the beasts in my dream. Had I seen that strange man before? Now that I thought about it, he did look vaguely familiar… but where would I have seen him?

A couple of minutes later, we arrived at the airport. The flight from California to Romania had a short line so we didn't have to wait very long. I crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for the four families to move along so we could get this over with. However, a part of me was praying that the terminal would close before they were through.

Instead, each exchange was brief. There was no chit-chat between the clerk and his customers. He looked just as bored as that kid from yesterday, believe it or not. His face clearly read _I can't wait until my shift is over._ Not shocking, considering the fact that he looked about as old as me. Four dull "Thank you. Enjoy your flight"s later, we were standing in front of the clerk.

Desperate, I decided to try making conversation with the guy. I looked his uniform up and down, searching for something unique. His hair was a bland blond. No, that wouldn't do. His eyes were too boring of a brown to even think of commenting on. _Bingo! _I thought as I spotted a ring with a black gem in the shape of a bat. While I waited for my father to hand him the tickets, I tapped my feet lightly. Most of the time, it's a sign that my patience is thin. This time, however, it was to occupy myself until the right moment came.

"Tickets please," the teen said, holding out his hand.

Dad started to get out the tickets when I said, "I love your ring. Where did you get it?"

The guy looked shocked for a moment then responded with, "Just an old antique store down the street from my house. They sell a lot of cool items that people claim are "magically enhanced," you know? I don't really believe the rumors, but some people actually think they're true." He laughed at that and took the tickets from my dad.

"What do they say that one does?" I asked, pathetically stalling for precious seconds.

"They say it can draw bats to the wearer, but that's a load of bull. I've been wearing it ever since I bought it and haven't seen a single rat with wings near my house."

"How much do you know about magic items?" Momentarily forgetting my stalling, I was intrigued.

"I know more than most. I've devoted most of my free-time to collecting supposedly-magical trinkets and jewelry from any store I can find them. I can give you my number if you want to learn more about them."

"Yes, I'd like that a lot, actually," I said. "They fascinate me, too." Okay, the last one was a lie. So what? I was still curious as heck to find out what this guy knew.

No sooner than I said it did he get out a piece of paper and start scribbling digits onto it. He handed it to me, and I looked it over. His name was Aaron Samuels and below it was the number. I looked back up at him.

"Feel free to call any time you need to know about something… or, if you don't," he said, seeming kind of shy. Why was unknown to me.

"Ahem," I heard my dad say. "Lorena, we need to be leaving. We're going to miss the plane if we don't."

I stood there for a few moments, looking at the small tear of paper. Something started pulling me away and over to where the planes would be.

"Have a safe flight," I heard Aaron yell.

I glanced up from the paper to wave to him, trying my best to smile. Handing our luggage to the people who handled it, we boarded the plane. Both of us scanned the crowd to see if we could find two empty seats. Luckily, we found two that a couple just gave up. I guessed they realized they were on the wrong plane, because they seemed in a hurry to leave.

We settled into our seats. I placed that small piece of paper in my pocket for safekeeping and took out a book to read. It was about a wolf pup that got lost in the woods. The puppy had run away from his family because they'd eaten one of his friends: a bird with a silver tail and a torn wing. The bird couldn't fly so he'd taken it upon himself to keep it safe.

This was my mom's idea of a bedtime story for me. She wanted me to be fully aware of how the real world looked and to not be afraid to face unfamiliar foes. She'd told me that I should be prepared to lay my life on the line if another was at stake. The final piece of advice she gave me was to protect and to never attack unless someone attacked me first.

I threw the book back in my bag and curled up in a ball. Blinked a couple of times to keep my tears from falling onto my skirt. Thank goodness I wore leggings that day or everyone would see the waterworks I was trying to keep in.

"Are you okay, Lorena?" I heard my father ask as I felt someone touch my arm.

Quickly turning to face the window, I wiped my eyes. I turned back to my dad, putting on a fake smile that I attempted to make seem real. "Yeah, I'm fine. Can you ask the flight attendant about blankets, please?" I asked, uncurling myself like a cat waking up from a long, well-deserved nap.

"Sure," he said and called an attendant over. The attendant went away for a moment and came back with a blue blanket. She handed it to me and asked my father if we needed anything else. He said no, and she left to tend to someone else.

Spreading the blanket over me, I curled up into a ball. For a few moments, I stared at the clouds passing us by like white shadows in the darkness. I laid my head on my knees and reached under the blanket for the locket, panicking when I couldn't find it right away. However, I calmed down when I felt the cool metal touch my fingertips. Gently clasping it in my hand, I shut my eyes and soon fell into a slumber so deep that only a dragon's roar would be able to wake me.


	2. Old Friends

Chapter 2: Old Friends

_"C'mon, Lorena, we're going to be late for meeting up with Rae," Elinor called for me from under my bedroom window. I was in my old room, and it was almost like watching a movie._

_A younger me stood by her bed, brushing her semi-long hair. She was in a dress that, at one point, I'd dubbed my favorite. It was the color of the night sky with tiny, white flowers dotting the skirt. Mini me yelled back to Elinor, "Okay, I'll be down in a minute."_

_She ran down the stairs and, like a ghost, I followed her. The house looked just the same as it had always looked: pristine. My mom had always made sure of that. She hated having a house that was unclean. She treated it like a fatal disease. Had to be taken care of right away or it would worsen. In the dream, she and my dad were at the dining room table, eating breakfast._

_Little me ran past them with very little regard for the commonplace setting. "Lorena," my mom had yelled after me, "at least eat a slice of toast."_

_"I don't have time, Mom," the younger version of me said. "I'm meeting with Elinor."_

I woke up with a salty liquid covering my face that could only be tears. Another dream of the mother I'd lost years ago. A happy one, but another nonetheless. Opening my eyes, I saw my dad with his head tipped forward in his seat, snoring. It would be comical if not for the fact that I was still terrified of this trip to the devil's paradise.

A glance out of my window revealed that the sun was just cresting over the horizon. Like a giant ball it sat on the clouds waiting for a good kick to send it flying into the sky. Hues of orange, red, and pink shaded the sky, revealing a morning secret that no one could tell anyone. Yet, everyone knew about it anyway.

Stretching my arms above my head and accidentally bumping them on a luggage duct – ouch – I righted myself in my seat and took out the fragile piece of paper with the number on it that I might need later. For some strange reason, I found myself staring at Aaron's messy handwriting: both of his A's looked like a leaning version of the Eifel Tower, his "O" looked like a messed up pizza complete with crumpled dough, his "n" looked like a normal N though.

I stuffed it back in my pocket, patting it to flatten the paper. No way was I calling him at this hour. So, I took out the book I rummaged through my bag for something to keep me occupied and took out a notebook with my favorite pen inside. Instead of black or blue, it scrawled with a silvery color that reminded me of star dust.

And I started organizing kindergarten-like drawings on a page writing my two friends names in a random spot. Then I began drawing three stick figures that were supposed to be us but in no way looked like the people they were meant to portray. With a giggle, I guided the pen across the page to create their hairstyles and mine.

"Wha? Huh?" I heard someone say. Glancing up, I saw my father blinking his eyes open with drool dripping from his mouth. "When did you get up, Lorena?"

"A minute ago," I replied without looking up. Despite being on a plane, I still wanted to go home and never come back to the place we would be landing in in minutes. Only thing I had to look forward to was seeing my two best friends in the world.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are now landing in the province of Transylvania," the flight attendant said over the intercom. "Please buckle your seatbelts and prepare to land."

Dad and I both strapped ourselves in. Soon I would be back in the country where my mother "died." Even though we never found a body. Even though no one ever saw what happened.

I shook my head. Worrying about it at that moment wasn't going to help anything. So I grabbed onto the arms of my chair and held on for dear life.

Flying was a lot less tame than I remembered. It must've been years since I'd flown to anywhere, but I didn't remember being shoved back in my seat by the wind. Or hearing my ears pop not one or twice but three times. Very loudly.

And, I certainly didn't remember wanting to kiss the ground right after I landed.

But that was precisely what I did. I literally knelt on the ground and planted a small-as-an-ant kiss on the concrete. And, of course, realized what I was doing and scrubbed my tongue with my nails, gouging it so that I could get the horrible taste out of my mouth.

As I stood up, my father gave me a look that said "what was that?" and I didn't answer him. Because I honestly had no idea why I did that. So I grinned at him like I did. He, in turn, shook his head. "We need to find a flower shop," he said, "once we get into town. Then we'll eat breakfast somewhere. 'Sound good?"

I nodded my head yes, and we began walking through the terminal. People sat around in the waiting area either reading or occupying themselves with some electronic device. Ipads, Ipods, and cellphones were aplenty. Their faces glowed blue with the screens in front of their faces.

Taking out my cellphone, I added Aaron's number to my Contacts and closed it. I'd call him after I woke up the next time. Stashing it in my pocket, I strode toward the entrance. My dad walked in front of me, scanning the place for something I couldn't be sure of. Wolves? Birds? Moths? Who knew with this place? God, I wanted to go home already.

But, deciding to act mature, I kept my mouth shut. Complaining about being there wasn't going to fix anything, because we already put our money into getting the plane ticket. My dad would freak if he ended up throwing almost two thousand dollars down a laundry chute full of paper shredders.

"Are you excited that you'll be able to see them again?" he asked.

"What?" I asked, not having a clue who he was talking about. Who would I know there?

"Elinor and Raemundo," he said with a chuckle. "You forgot?"

"Oh yeah," I said, then covered it up with, "I remembered."

"Well, are you?"

"Of course I am," I said, trying to play it cool. "Why would I not be? They're my best friends whom I haven't seen in years." _Should have at least tried to contact them, _I thought. _Why didn't I? Is there something I'm forgetting?_ With a shake of my head, I dismissed the thought. My worries should have been with finding flowers for my "dead" mother.

Her favorite type of flower was the Pheasant's Eye. She always said that they smelled like home to her. At that time, I'd just nodded not quite sure what she was referring to as I was barely in first grade. But now they were very important since she no longer picked them out for herself to put in the garden we tended to every time we visited _Tetea _and _Bunica_. He kept it for her even after she left home to fight in a defense group for Romania.

The town was not a lively as I remembered. In fact, one might describe it as a ghost town, because no one walked the streets with briefcases or cars running to work. No lights were on in the houses, that I could see. One person slept on a street corner, their torn clothes barely keeping them warm. I pitied them.

"Well…" my dad started, turning to me, "maybe we should go to our place first before we do anything. No need to get used to the time difference right away, right?"

I nodded, completely put off by the lack of activity. Where was everyone?

But, yanking my luggage along, I stared up at the rising morning and let out a yawn that was wide enough to swallow awakening birds. Tiredness crept through me like a worm through a long tunnel, squishing my energy as if it had never been gained from sleep. It was way too early for us to be wandering in the middle of our home country, a strange country, that was said to be haunted by malevolent forces.

_Tetea'_s and _Bunica_'s home was on top of a large hill, and to wake myself, I dashed up it. My feet crunched the grass like green snow, with very little care about if I was smashing weeds on my way. The brown-paneled house rose to meet my rushed pace. On the porch stood my grandparents with their arms stretched out to envelope Dad and I.

So when I finally made it there, I rushed both of them, very nearly knocking them over. Then I gave them both hugs that would crush the bodies of frail old folks but barely fazed mine. Each of them had a strength that could only come from a great deal of laborious tasks. I squeezed them to within an inch of their deaths.

"Oh look how you've grown, Lorena," _Bunica_ said, pinching my cheeks as I pulled away from her. "But so skinny–" she tisked "–We'll have to fix that now won't we?" a glint in her eye told me that was nonnegotiable.

With an unsuppressed giggle, I turned to _tetea_. "I suppose it's asking too much for you to abandon the notion of your mother still being out there, correct?" he said, all business-like. Used to it, I gave a short nod. He was never good with the affection thing, but I knew he loved me just as much as my grandma. "Well, that figures. Just don't get into anything you shouldn't."

"Oh, I'll make sure she doesn't," Dad said as he finally crested the hilltop and gave them each a hug and a kiss on each cheek.

With what-I-hoped-to-be a barely registered roll of my eyes, I put down my suitcase and asked _Bunica_, "Do you know if Raemundo or Elinor–"

The front door opening cut me off. Out stepped a girl with frizzy red hair in a ponytail. Little blonde streaks colored her bangs. One bang almost covered one of her brown eyes. Dressed in jeans as well as a T-shirt that was much too big to fit her, she looked almost exactly as I remembered her.

"Lor," she exclaimed, tackling me in a hug that nearly sent us both tumbling down the hill. Wrapping my arms around her, I thanked the gods that I hadn't taken that particular trip that morning. Letting me go, she let her arms hang at her sides. "I've missed you so much. We have a lot of catching up to do. Rae's upstairs asleep so we'll have a few hours until he gets up. So we'll be able to talk about your staying in America and your trip to your mother's grave that I'm _of course _going to coming with you on. I mean, she was like a mother to–"

Laughing at her rambling, I put a hand over her mouth to stop her. "Okay, Ellie," I said. "Slow down. We'll talk about all of this upstairs."

"Oooh. I can't wait to show you the room we're both staying in. It's so cool and has so many books to look in. Your grandma stocked it for you once your dad told her you were coming," she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the house.

Realizing she wasn't about to loosen her grip, I grabbed my suitcase and let her drag me up to the room that used to be mine. The staircase was still lined with pictures of _Tetea _and _Bunica _as well as my dad and me. Any pictures of my mother they'd taken off the wall and stored in the attic above my old room.

Elinor began babbling about things like her dog, Fluffles, had puppies and was keeping them in the backyard. She also mentioned that Raemundo became even more serious after I left. That he was no longer the happy person I'd once known him to be. He was no fun, she said with a pout in her voice.

That kind of made me pause. He was always the mischievous one of the group. The one who got in the most trouble in a short amount of time. Always pulling meaninglessly funny pranks on the most unsuspecting people. One time he filled a balloon filled with red food coloring and threw it on Elinor, convincing her it was actually blood. One of the most hilarious experiences I'd ever had, as Ellie claimed for a week that there was a vampire in her room.

"All right, _surată_," she started, "here we are." With a press, she opened the door and revealed my very red bedroom.

Crimson splattered the walls, covering them in what would make a crazy person think to be blood. I'd had this weird fascination with the color when I was younger. Red dresses hung in the closet beside my cherry wood wardrobe and bookshelf which had, just as Elinor had said, more books than what I'd left behind. Drawn to the leather-bound blessings, I floated over to the bookshelf and looked at the types. Some of them involved vampires, others involved more practical creatures that actually existed: dinosaurs, mammals, and insects. Books about wars fought and won around the world and books simply made to entertain.

"Impressive, huh?" Elinor's voice piped up behind me. "She knows how much you like to study so she stocked it with plenty of materials."

"I'll have to thank her later," I murmured, distracted by the lovely reading material. Definitely would be taking some of those books with me when I finished with that place. No ways was I letting them collect dust.

With a yawn, I went over to my bed and collapsed on it, clawing at the red, flowered quilt with my hands. Elinor bounced on the foot of my bed, crossing her legs in front of her with her head tilted to the side. "You're tired?" she said, a note of confusion tinting her voice.

"Yeah," I said. "The switching of time zones, you know. I'll get used to it. Just keep me awake for now."

"I can do that," she said excitedly. "I'm really good with doing that, actually. I once kept Rae up for three days straight without him resting even a day. We stayed the night at some haunted place filled with ghosts–"

"If it were haunted, mentioning ghosts would be redundant–"

"–and possibly other creatures like vampires–"

"–that do not exist."

A pillow came at my head, and I chuckled. Elinor had the pouting face on again and was using it at its fullest. "All right, all right," I said. "I'll stop being a know-it-all."

With a grin, she continued, "It turned out that some kid was going around in the mansion scaring people and playing it off as if he were a ghost. Dressing up all in white. Pouring flour over his head. Even went as far as to get white contacts. He begged us not to turn him in, and get this, he gave us a hundred bucks each to not tell anyone that he was the ghost! Cool, huh?"

"Yeah," I said with a small smile. When Elinor went off like that was all you could really do.

The grin on her face quickly grew into a frown. "I found something that I think you might like to have," she said, "but it's in the attic, so we'll have to wait until Rae wakes from the dead." Her characteristic giggle followed. It sounded like a cross between a witch's cackle and a little kid's laugh. Always made me chuckle.

"What is it?" I asked, not chuckling, then. Whatever this was, if Elinor stopped being her usual self it had to be serious.

Steps sounded on the stairs so she gestured with a hand for me to come closer. I sat up and leaned in so she could whisper it in my ear. "You mother's diary," she said, as quietly as possible.

That surprised me. I'd never known my mother to keep something as trivial as a diary. She just didn't seem like the kind of person to do it. "Really?" I said. "From when?"

"Well, judging from the date, I would say that she was about your age when she started logging in it. I didn't look inside, because I figured you and I could both go through it," she said, the smallest smile appearing on her face.

Leaning away, I thought about it. A diary that my mom kept. One that she wrote her most personal thoughts in. Maybe it would have clues about where she went that night. Then I would know a direction to head to find her.

"You're thinking about doing something naughty, aren't you?" she asked in her normal voice. "If you do, can I come? It's been ages since we've gotten into trouble over anything. And Rae can tag along as well. Just so long as he doesn't nag at us to stop what we're doing. Hey, how about we go to that strange castle across–"

"No," I said, too sharply and much too quickly. Taking a breath, I restarted. "It's a bad idea."

"Awe… why not? You said it yourself: vampires don't exist," she said, doing an interpretation of me with this mockingly serious expression on her face. "Even though your last name is Belmont, and somewhere in this house is the whip that your great-great-great-great–"

"Girls, come down to breakfast," _Bunica _called from the stairs.

Deciding I would thank my grandmother later, I jumped off the bed and practically flew down the stairs. I almost trampled Grandma as I rushed to the table and pulled out a chair to sit in. Glasses filled with orange juice stood around the table next to plates with neatly folded napkins as well as a fork and a spoon. Sometimes _tetea_'s business-like attitude went too far, but right then it felt like I was eating at a fancy restaurant.

In the center of the table was a combination of cheese, ham, and a loaf of bread that looked more like a baguette. My grandparents were already seated, grandpa at the head of the table and grandma next to him on the right. Dad was plucking at a piece of ham with his fork while scooping slices onto his plate.

"It looks so good," I said, licking my lips.

"Oh, yes it does!" Elinor said from behind me. She shoved me out of the way on the way to her plate at the last chair to the right.

"I need one of you two to go wake up Raemundo," my grandma said as she wiped her hands off with a dish towel.

"I'll do it," I said.

"He'll be surprised," Elinor giggled as she grabbed a plate off of the table.

So I jogged up the stairs to the room right next to my old one. Prying open the door that should have fallen off its hinges by now, I climbed the stairs leading into the finished attic where someone was sawing logs with their nasal passages. Rae always snored the loudest out of all of us. Even me, and I could sleep an entire day without waking once.

Spread out on a twin with his mouth hanging open was Rae. Intent on scaring the lights out of him, I crept over to the head of his bed and yelled, "boo!"

The effect was instantaneous. He jolted up with a shout and tumbled out of the other side of the bed. "Ow…" he trailed off as his head hit the hard wood. "What was that for, El?" he asked, not looking at me. As soon as he noticed he wasn't talking to Elinor, though, his mouth dropped to the floor and his eyes became giant saucers. "I must be seeing things. It couldn't really be you."

"It is," I said with a smile. "In the flesh. Sorry I haven't written or called or paid you guys a–" he cut me off by hopping up and giving me a hug. It was a hug that would make bears jealous.

"I can't believe you've come back," he said, stepping away from me.

"Me neither," I said, "but I wanted to see you guys again."

Rae had changed a lot since the last time I'd seen him. Gone was his skinny, barely exercised form. In its place stood a body builder with black hair and dark purple eyes. The eye color was a trait passed down through his family for generations.

Making the bed, he said, "I'm glad you're here. Elinor has held out on me all summer. She said that somebody was coming, but I never expected you to be the person."

"Well, my grandma and grandpa are waiting downstairs for us to start eating breakfast so let's not keep them waiting," I said, beginning to descend the stairs.

As soon as we made it down the last of the stairs, we noticed that everyone was having a conversation involving a memory. Sounded like something that my grandfather did when he was younger, but I couldn't be sure. We took a seat on either side of Elinor after making our plates.

"I shee you're finally up, shleepyhead," Elinor said through a mouthful of ham and cheese. With a swallow, she added, "You stayed up so late researching yesterday that I figured you would sleep all the way through the day."

I took a bite of the bread by itself and drowned it with orange juice. Then I said, "Researching what?"

"Just something I wanted to know about," Rae said, tiptoeing around the subject.

I raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything more about it. Instead, I focused on the breakfast that would have been considered lunch in America. Devoured the ham, then the cheese, and finally the bread. After that, I swallowed my orange juice and cleaned up with the napkin the silverware was wrapped in.

"Thank you for the meal," I said. Checking my watch I saw that it was almost nine AM. Four o'clock in the morning at home. Not a decent time to call someone. "I'm going to step outside for a bit. Better yet–" I turned to my dad "–I'll run into town to get moms' flowers."

"All right," he said. "Be careful not to talk to strangers."

Before I walked out the door, I turned back to them and said, "Dad, you've drilled that into my head since I lived here. Don't worry."

And, without another word, I walked down the hill. _Bunica_'s bellflowers were in full bloom and brushed the exposed skin from my leggings. Saying hello to me, I assumed. I took in their scents and let a sigh drift from my lips. Such a peaceful place. Why was I so afraid to come back?

I pressed my skirt down in a badly-practiced curtsy and practically dashed down the hill. Then I passed trees that nearly touched the sky and bushes that barely hung to the ground. Thorns pricked at my legs making me wince, but I didn't stop. With a yip, I reached the bottom and rushed through trees that acted like guards for the bridge ahead. Was getting too close to that castle.

Taking my "vampire hunter" hat out of my bag, I pulled it over my head and tipped it down like I was a character from some cartoon. Then I stared at the place that always gave me hives. It was a beautiful citadel with sand-colored bricks and darker-than-dark shingles on the coned towers.

Shivering, I turned to the path on the left side of me that I figured led to the city and ran away from the terrifying-looking place. As I walked through the woods and onto the sidewalk, it felt almost like someone was waiting to jump out at me from every shadow. But that couldn't be right. It wasn't physically possible to hide inside shadows.

The flower shop was just down the street. A little place that translated in English to "Flowers for the Thoughtful." It was one of my mother's favorite places to go when we were having our mother-daughter days. She would pluck a bellflower, pay for it, and stick it in my hair.

So I waited at the street corner, tapping my foot impatiently. The little white man on the traffic signal had not made his appearance, and I didn't want to be in that part of the city any longer than I had to be.

The red hand finally disappeared, and the little walking man waved his hand at me to go. I bolted across the street to the first of many shops. Several more dotted both sides, calling for me to buy something from them. By running past them, I politely declined the summons without even glancing in their direction.

Dodging people on their way to their places of work, I ran 'til I reached my destination, not even being my usual polite self. People made sounds of indignation in their native tongue as I slid past them. Well, I had places to be and needed to get there and back fast. No time to say sorry a million times.

As soon as I came to my destination, I walked in and started looking around at the flowers. Flowers of white, pink, red, purple, and blue greeted me with their leafy arms stretched at their sides in a wave.

"See anything you like?"

With a turn, I noticed a short man with a receding hairline and kind brown eyes. "Yes, I'm looking for a bouquet of pheasants' eyes for my mother," I told him, drawing on a smile.

"We should have them right next to the daffodils," he said.

"How much are they?" I asked, taking out my wallet.

"Just twenty two euros," he said as he started picking out blooms from the pheasants' eyes.

A moment later, he came back and I placed the euros in his hand, then put the flowers up to my nose and sniffed. They smelled like my mother's hair. I stroked the petals, imagining I was playing with her hair just like I had when I was little. Softly, I began to hum a melody to myself while still stroking the petals. It was one she'd tucked me into bed with every night that put me right to sleep.

A jab to my shoulder brought me back to the present, shattering the memory as if it were nothing more than a reflection of what used to be. Trying to reclaim my memory, I turned to face the shopkeeper. "Excuse me," he started, "but are you related to Cathlene Belmont? You look an awful lot like her."

"You knew my mother? And, yeah, I'm related to her," I said, realizing a bit too late that it could be a trap. Whoever made my mom go missing could be anywhere.

"Why, yes. I did. She used to come into this shop all the time to pick up a bouquet of the same nature as yours. Say, do you know what happened to her?"

_She's missing, _I thought. "She's dead," I said flatly, "and I'm done with this conversation."

Clutching the flowers to my chest, I bolted out of the shop, determined to get home. My lungs weighed a ton from running just recently, but I forced them to keep functioning. Heart felt just as heavy, but I willed it to keep pumping blood. Breath came in short gasps that came every couple of seconds. It almost felt like I was being chased, but that couldn't be possible. No one knew me there.

Yeah right. And, I was a storyteller surrounded by gremlins.

Sensing someone was behind me, I stopped, turned, and glanced around me. People walked on their merry way without a care, completely oblivious to my being there. I turned back and ran into something. Hard. With a cry, I stumbled backwards and fell onto the sidewalk. "Ow," I said, squinting my eyes shut for a moment. As soon as I remembered why I was on the ground, I opened my eyes and looked up.

Standing there was a guy that looked only a little older than me. His hair, a golden blond that matched his eyes, rushed down his back in waves like people running from a demon. For all I knew, that guy _was_ a demon.

"I'm sorry for startling you, miss," he said flatly but politely, "but I noticed that you were running and wondered what from."

"Just heading home," I said, standing up, though he offered a hand to help me. "I was heading home, at least, until you started stalking me."

He continued as though I'd never spoken. "I see you've got some flowers there. Are they for your mother's grave?"

If I had a sword, it would have been pointed at his throat. "What do you mean "my mother's grave?" How do you know she's dead?" I demanded, narrowing my eyes.

"When a Belmont dies," he said, "everyone here knows. Your family is famous, in case you haven't noticed."

"I don't have time for this," I said. "I need to get home in time so that my dad and I can go to my mom's grave. Who are you, anyway?"

"Alucard Tepes," he said, flinging out a hand for me to shake.

Awkwardly, I took my hand from my side and shook his hand. He gripped it tightly but let go as soon as I tugged. "It's nice to meet you," I said, equally polite but not as flat. "Mine is Lorena Bellemore. My family swore off the name Belmont shortly after we left Romania."

He nodded, as if confirming something to himself. "I'd be careful about putting that name in the open," he said mysteriously. "People tend to have… mixed reactions when they hear it."

"Thanks, bud," I said with a snap, "but I can take care of myself. I know when to tell people who I am and when not to." Though I had no idea why I was telling this complete stranger anything.

"Take my warning or not," he said coldly. "I care not. But I'd advise that you head my words."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said. "See you around."

In a blink, he was gone as fast as he'd come, leaving a mill of questions running through my head.


End file.
